


Seek in Me for a Heart

by TheFire_in_the_NightSky



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: From Lavellan's POV, Light Angst, LoveDorianWeek2018, M/M, POV First Person, Sexual Content, Stream of Consciousness, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 04:32:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16110878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFire_in_the_NightSky/pseuds/TheFire_in_the_NightSky
Summary: A bit of a melancholy ode to Dorian, via Felan's perspective, taking place a short while before the fight with Corypheus.*Written for LoveDorianWeek2018 Day 3 prompt - Crazy Little Thing Called Love/Dorian & His Amatus





	Seek in Me for a Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a pretty in-depth rewrite of an old piece of mine originally titled, "Serpenti et Lupum," which I've taken down since writing this. It was way too sad/dark, and didn't really fit how I grew to picture Felan and Dorian's relationship over time.

He feels he is lost but, I too share that kind of scar.  Both of us lost with “have lost"s and “what if”s. He’s still looking back, back to what’s left behind there, who’s left him aside.  As I work to mend my own past wounds, I try to turn his head away with a kiss - tell him,  _ “Look forward with me.” _

He thinks he’s a bad man; distaste for his own self, borne of others’ ignorance and bigotry no matter where he goes.  I fight to pull the good up through the cracks for him; wrench it through to the surface to show what has always been there.  He is  _ not  _ his homeland.

_ I  _ am his only home, he concedes.  No matter how far, nor how long we may have to part.  Something  _ new  _ and whole, and precious.   _ His.   _ He’d caught me by the ribs and reached in.  Ensnared  _ my  _ soul as I tried to free  _ his.  _  I’d only wanted to rescue him from the gilded bars long encasing his heart.   _ “Kindred spirits”  _ is what he always likes to tell me.  A bond forged with the bellows of death’s whisper.  Oh, what fate has led us to!

And then, there are the days I worry I am weak, not strong enough under the weight of my own self-doubts.  Not enough for the lot of them, and not for someone as _good_ _as_ _him._   Where do I belong when this war is over?  Where do I stand when everything I’d known was slaughtered and laid to ruin? _“By my side_ ,” he reminds me.  He teaches me a different kind of bravery and trust, I teach him it’s okay to break sometimes, to let the mortar of your walls crumble and cave.  He assures me he’ll help shoulder my burdens, but... he doesn’t want to lose me in the end. Says I don’t owe anyone a thing, wishes I didn’t risk _everything._  I don’t need their thanks or their approval.  But, he knows I _won’t_ walk away - especially not from him.  Never him. I can’t bear to fail him, too.   _He is my barrier, my strength._

He curses the verdant glow that never leaves my grasp - says it’s killing me.  Perhaps it is. But I give him an assuring, wolfish grin, joking that I have far too much work yet to do, a false-god to fell, our world to save… including the one we’ve built that surrounds _ just the two of us.  _  He is terrified.  Doesn’t know what he’ll do without me, if I don’t come back from this fight.  I promise him it’s safe to hope now. Hope for  _ more. _ _ Hope for everything.   _

There are times I find him, amidst the scent of leather and old paper.  Candles burned down to waxen puddles, fingers ink-stained-black. Wandering in his cavern of books and research again.  Thinks he can save me when this is all said and done - he’s sure of it. I tell him he’ll worry  _ himself  _ to death, to just come back to bed.  He always does because there, we can hold onto one another as if all of Thedas falls away; and evil retreats momentarily into shadows housed by niches, and darkness hiding behind curtains, leaving only what’s real, needed.  A time that is ours. That is what I’m  _ fighting  _ for.

At night, he is smouldering in my hands, trying to fuck away past hurts and fears - mine or his, I don’t care to know anymore.  I don’t need to. His love - indelible - fills every gash, every deep ravine scarring my mind and soul; a healing draught, incomparable.  Like the shared ink that flows in frozen lines beneath our skin… there is a secure sense of permanence;  _ meaning. _

And now, he has me so close, lips whispering against one another’s.  A flicker of firelight catches on the flecks of gold that dance in the steel of his eyes, as they bore into the blue-silver of mine with promises that no longer need heavy words.

_ “Amatus,” _ he breathes, the final consonant hissed like a serpent.  It is a hot spark against the hard flint inside me, setting my skin alight. 

In the stray ribbons of cold moonlight, I watch the perfect contrast of the warm brown of his muscled form against my paler hands while they slowly move to their destinations.  I memorise every hard edge and soft curve along the way - much as I myself have felt him do each night, and some lazy mornings. I clutch his jaw like glass. His pulse soars to mirror my own.

_ “Always,” _ I vow with everything I am.

His smile creeps slow and sweet, from one side of his full mouth.   _ This  _ is what I’m willing to die for.

**Author's Note:**

> *This piece is still not quite canon to my Dum Spiro Spero series - just a note for those who've kept up with that.
> 
>  
> 
> Comments, thoughts, and kudos are appreciated as always<3


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